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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, however they told her she might and must pass for younger.

So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.

In other words? Profitable.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being a product called Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually brought out her self-respect undamaged.

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve afterwards.

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 pressed the door available to a long narrow corridor 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 discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause 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 cash, of course.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Do not worry, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, 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 upper body would line up.

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

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

Annika put 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.

His voice came smothered from below after a number of minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the really first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s ideal. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She followed. 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 tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so attractive …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika moved and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She currently understood how to drive a man insane. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He should have seen the look on her face, because he included, “Don’t stress, 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 full display.

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

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

But primarily, she felt conflicted. Since she also recognized just how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the benefit 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 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.