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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to suck 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 mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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