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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do. I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though. I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, because I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he could actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering into 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how numerous men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.

Mary Magdalene had actually 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, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually changed too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.

I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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