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I even began taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea due to the fact that he might actually charge more, specifically if the man I was opting for selected 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 scared someone would see me entering a weird cars and truck, a various odd cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often 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 advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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