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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of individual services, however they informed her she could and must pass for more youthful.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some step of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she provided to her new work personality.

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

This was only short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished to achieve 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 rang. She pressed the door open up to a long narrow corridor 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 envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor didn’t cause one.

Later, when asked why she remained a complete week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get started? Don’t fret, 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 material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, good 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 provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came stifled from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move 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 extremely 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 obeyed. She was good 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, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

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

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t 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 screen.

” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, awkward, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.

But mainly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good girl. 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 money in her hand. It was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.