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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do. I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.

Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men 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 pointers that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.

Mary Magdalene had been a slut. 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 understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and deal 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing related to the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.

I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.

 

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