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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of individual services, but they told her she might and should pass for more youthful.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

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 walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually come out with her self-respect intact.

This was just short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed the call button beside 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 hallway 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 thought of discovering there, she truthfully 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 remained a full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, obviously.”.

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

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Her 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 lingerie is truly quite.”.

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 begin? Don’t fret, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what looked like an ordinary 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 between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, simple and nice.”.

He removed his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika placed her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She knew how to offer a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came muffled from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not 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 best. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She obeyed. She was good 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 tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika squirmed and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She already knew how to drive a man crazy. But there was something left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that beautiful …” He must have seen the look on 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 somewhat, her intimate parts on full display screen.

” Oh, yummy,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

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

But mostly, she felt conflicted. Due to the fact that she also understood 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 an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.

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

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