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I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was choosing picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a weird car, a various strange car each time, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, 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 stunned how many people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. However they were in love with 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 understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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