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

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

To put it simply? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand 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 gave to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.

This was only short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to achieve 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 rang. She pushed the door available 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, when asked what she thought of finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t cause one.

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

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Do not 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 material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, easy and nice.”.

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 understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous 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 very 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 complied with. She was good at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

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

Annika slid and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the look on her face, because he included, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wished to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uneasy, even traitorous. A toy for males with non reusable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

But primarily, she felt clashed. Since she also realized how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and launched 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.