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I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the guy 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 actually like it.
Method 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 thought was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these people for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and live 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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