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

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a vast array of tastes.

Simply put? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic 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 end up being a product called Annika *, the name she provided to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to accomplish afterwards.

On a cool September night 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 rang. She pressed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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 imagined finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, naturally.”.

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 great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is actually quite.”.

She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, but maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.

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

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: 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 start with a back massage, good and simple.”.

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 excellent.” His voice came stifled from below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to full mast at the really first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s ideal. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so hot …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She currently knew how to drive a guy crazy. 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 stunning …” He must have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that 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.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

Primarily, she felt conflicted. Since she also understood how much power she held. This was a location where consumers spent for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s a good woman. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.

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 sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.