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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of personal services, but they told her she might and must pass for younger.

So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to achieve thereafter.

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 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 right 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 answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause 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, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.

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

” You look great,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is actually pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, I’ll walk 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. However 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 between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great and easy.”.

He eliminated 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 might do this. She understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came muffled from listed below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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He stiffened to full 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 proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.

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

Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to discover.

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

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

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

Primarily, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she likewise recognized just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s an excellent lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.

He gripped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.