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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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