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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she could 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 (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.
In other words? Rewarding.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d come out with her dignity intact.
This was just short-term, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to accomplish thereafter.
On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer sounded. She pushed 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 pictured finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.
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Her first client, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is really 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? Don’t worry, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what looked 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 2nd 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 start with a back massage, easy and great.”.
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.
” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t 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 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 instructions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.
” 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, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.
Annika moved and writhed, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that lovely …” He should have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.
Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred once again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous. A toy for guys with non reusable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mainly, she felt contrasted. Since she also realized just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.
” That’s a great woman. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.
He gripped her thighs and launched 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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