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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel how many people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe 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 comfort 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 hurting anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I don't know if one thing related to the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, 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 papa. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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