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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of individual services, but they informed her she might and ought to pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.

Simply put? Rewarding.

Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize 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 just secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with 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 achieve 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 ad?”.

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. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she remained a complete 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 have 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 underwear is truly quite.”.

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

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

” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, great and simple.”.

He removed 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 give a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from listed below after a number of minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy.

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He stiffened to full mast at the really 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. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

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

Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She already understood how to drive a guy insane. But there was something delegated learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that beautiful …” He should have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.

Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display screen.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, awkward, even traitorous.

Mostly, she felt contrasted. Because she also recognized just how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.

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

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