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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of individual services, however they informed her she could and need to pass for younger.
So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.
Simply put? Rewarding.
Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d come out with her self-respect intact.
This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September evening 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer called. She pushed 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 pictured discovering there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” For the cash, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.
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Her very first consumer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Don’t worry, I’ll walk 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 product, with a hole at one end. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a 2nd 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, good and easy.”.
He removed his clothing, 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 understood how to give a back massage, no problem.
His voice came stifled 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 really first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.
She complied with. She was good 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. Just move all over me, there you go.
Annika moved and twisted, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that lovely …” He must have seen the search her face, because he included, “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 a little, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred once again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous. A toy for men with disposable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
Primarily, she felt conflicted. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where clients spent for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s a great woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving much faster.
He grasped her thighs and launched with one last sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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