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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of personal services, but they told her she could and need to pass for younger.

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

To put it simply? Profitable.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she provided to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might detach, 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 intact.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September night 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 called. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she pictured finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor didn’t result in one.

Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she knew what it was about, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.

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

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

” So, let’s get started? Do not 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 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 torso would line up.

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

He eliminated his clothes, 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 knew how to provide 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 very first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to turn around 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 shocked.

” 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, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so attractive …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She currently knew how to drive a man crazy. But there was one thing delegated find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He should have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

However primarily, she felt conflicted. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

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

He gripped her thighs and launched 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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.