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I even started taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just 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 long period of time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a strange vehicle, a various unusual automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and knowing that I truly 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 skill for the sex stuff anyway, 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting 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 a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. But 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could speak with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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