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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief 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, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting 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 lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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