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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of individual 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 ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-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 watched from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was only short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and intended to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September night 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 ad?”.

The buzzer rang. She pressed the door available 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 discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, naturally.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Don’t fret, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

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 might do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came muffled from listed below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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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 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 stunned.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. 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 sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika wriggled and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She currently knew how to drive a male insane. However there was something left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t desired to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Because she also understood how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a great girl. Complete 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 cash in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.