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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 could and should pass for younger.
So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.
To put it simply? Rewarding.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she offered to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.
This was just momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve afterwards.
On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 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 left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later on, when asked what she thought of finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.
Later, when asked why she stayed a full week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anybody.
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Her very first client, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, but 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 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 (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, easy and nice.”.
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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, just like that …”.
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He stiffened to complete mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s best. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.
She followed. She was good at following instructions. She surprised when he tapped her wrist.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so hot …”.
Annika moved and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.
” 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, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.
Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wished to be. Rather, she felt absurd, uneasy, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
Mainly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.
He grasped her thighs and released with one last 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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